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Rated: 18+ · Campfire Creative · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #776116
A town plagued by disappearances, and the horror has just begun.(please r&r email to join)
[Introduction]
A small rural town, situated on the edge of a forest, is plauged night after night by mysterious disaperances. A few blood drops in the snow is all that is left of the victims. Bloodcurdling screams fill the night, and horror haunts them all. Trapped in by a blizzard, they are forced to wait and watch. Hoping they will not be the next to fall to the terror the shadows bring. (If you want to join just send me an e-mail.)
The smell of death and tears hung heavily in the cold winter air. With trembling hands people locked their doors against the night, which had seemingly became their worst enemy.
Darkness crept with an effervescence of fear and remorse between venitian slits and parted curtains. Doublepaned and stained glass held back the greater surge, yet the primordial shoved past, delving beyond conventional means to enshroud victimized psyche's. A lonely wolf's howl echoed along the biting wind between finished vinyl and unfinished brick, drowning out the ticking of clocks, and the dull hum of forgotten radios buzzing like angry bees.
Reverting to their childhood defense, many crawled into bed pulling the covers snuggly over their heads. Thinking to block out thier fears, and the monsters that lurk in the shadows. The shadows that, even now, were creeping ever closer.
O'er the roofs swept shadows borne of purest Stygia, tattered threads of forlorn cloaks flapping like cast-off feathers from a raptor's flight. The graven image of an engraved hand stands bloody upon symmetrically edged visage, slicing the frigid air with surgical acuity.
At one house that stood alone the deadbolt was drawn back and the door opened. A young woman shuffled out, taking a moment to lock the door behind her. She walked mechanically onto her steps, and stood, with a blank stare, gazing into the night. Seeming unknowing of the dark fate which it was about to bestow upon her. Intellegince seeped back into her eyes a second before the shadows folded in around her. The townsfolk shuddered in their beds, as her piercing cry rang through the darkness.
The pervading scent of flesh and freshly spilled gore tainted the stale snow, as these Hounds of Hell...these Harbingers of Dark Degredation fed upon the Nectar of an offered soul. Jagged talons broke bones like Pick-up sticks, maws opened wide, Fangs like bloodied Beartraps Suckle out the bittersweet marrow.
After there feast the shadows retreat into the forest, leaving no signs of their presence. And the rest of the town is safe for another night. The people are begining to realize now that it is only a matter of time untill it will be their broken voices screaming in the night. They realize that eventually the shadows will come for all of them. All they can do is wait in dark terror for their moment to come. For they think, "how can you fight shadows, things you never even see?"
**********

Another icy morning dawns in the town, and the police find what remains of last night's victim. A few drops of blood in the snow is all that remains to tell the story of the latest victim of the shadows.

"So sheriff, you ready to evacuate this town yet?" ask one of the younger officers.

"I would be, but after that last snowfall yesterday I doubt if the road is passable. We'd probably get stuck just outside town and then we'd all be gone for sure," the sheriff replied.

"We should have evacuated days ago like I suggested. Now this whole town's blood is going to be on your hands," Leroy, the younger officer, said before walking off.
The squelching static of a radio's presence filled the biting air of the crime scene...

"Sheriff McCarthy, you there?"

The older man's work-gnarled fingers curled around the sleek black radio, lifting it to his lips to speak in a gust of steam, "McCarthy here, go ahead."

"Sir, the mayor is on the phone, he wants to know how we're comin' on these errr disappearances."

Pressing the tip of the antenna into his hat brim, he pushes it back from his face, swallowing a mouthful of bile as he flashes back on the previous crime scenes. He wets his cracked lips before speaking, "Look, Jimmy, just tell the mayor we're doing all we can. There's gotta be something to link these people. Find me a Spook specialist, ASAP, kid."
The sheriff turns and reluctantly begins the walk back to the police station, knowing he will have a score of frightened townsfolk to deal with when he gets there.

© Copyright 2003 pandora, Stitch, (known as GROUP).
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/776116-Shadows-of-Winter